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Newsflash:

Starpoet Newsletter Vol. VIII, No. XLVIII

Saturday, 24 November 2007 19:00 Last Updated on Saturday, 24 November 2007 13:19

The

Starpoet

Newsletter

Vol. VIII, No. XLVIII

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Turkey bones are scattered
In soup and container

Thanksgiving dead and gone

Along with vague memories

Of Friday in Dallas

And the quiet feast that followed
With parents and grandparents

All gone now

Save my brother in Sacramento

And those sharp fragments that remain

Still caught inside

Lisa Jain Thompson c. 2007 B.C.E.

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Four weeks and counting until Solstice

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starting off

Thus She Did Too Speak

Do not read this poem,

Turn the page quickly

Or hit the down arrow,

Roll your mouse wheel

Until you are below the copyright.

This is an evil poem,

A disturbing poem,
One that may upset you

If you read too far

Or realize the poem is true.

There are no such thing as poets,

These words are all in your head,

The poet merely says them
Before you can
while you're thinking

About something else.

Sappho was a bitchy woman
Who conned the Greek philosophers,

Starpoet is an agile lyricist
Who makes you invent her meter,

Shakespear was an out of work writer

Who seduced nobility for their money:
We are all little more than charltons

With a hunger for words and good living.

Lisa Jain Thompson
November 2007

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a little history

The Flight of the Phoenix

If a Vulcan landed in Bozeman, Montana,

Ready to greet Zefram Cochrane,

The President would send them both to Guantanamo
And keep them locked up forever.

No trial.

No Federation.

No Warp Drive.

All Gone

As fast as Liberty.

Lisa Jain Thompson
November 2007

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It is easier to breed new underpeople

Than it is to cure the sick ones.

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thanksgiving

A Taste of Delight, Forever Longing

In the kitchen, over my right shoulder,

She cooks,

Christmas, Thanksgiving, Easter,

She cooks.

I watch,

Astonished, curious, awestruck,

I do Mediterranean, Sicilian, American,

Not gourmet.

She cooks,

Insists she is not an iron chef

But only
An interested amateur.

Still she cooks,

Singly,
Herself alone in our kitchen:

Put that in your white chef's hat.

Jesus, she does cook.

Lisa Jain Thompson
November 2007

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there is always the possibility

Small She Was and Ritual

Someday they might probably

Name some high school after me,
And, if it means anything,

The should likely play lousy football

So as not break with history:

One of those fond memories

From high school,

Just like that date that

Never bothered to show up

And that cheer I could never

Get quite right.

Lisa Jain Thompson

November 2007

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Women who do not suck cock quickly upon command

are called cold bitches;
Woman who are cocksuckers are called sluts.

Guess which sex has taken it upon themselves

to make the determination.

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where science meets religion

Down Endless Ramps of Dreams

The gods could have made me

Into an accepteable woman

But chose, for their own amusement,

My brain in someone else's misgotten body.

They could have correct my body construct

While I, in embryo, was still developing,

But, for whatever their godlike reasons,

Stood firm in their fumbling creation.

So, of necessity, I've become one with the gods,

Along with a good surgeon and some hormones,

Worked our joint magic on the body at hand

And made right what the gods themselves could not.

Lisa Jain Thompson
November 2007

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a guide to travel

The Handprint of Angels

If I were to travel as far as Odysseus,

To distant places and unknown adventures,

I would hope that when I am finally ninety,

They erect a statue of my naked body in Sacramento.

No matter how far we think we have come,

Despite all our glorious ribbons and acheivements,

In the end, we are no more than human,

Earth to earth, starstuff first and always.

A poet is no different than a president or philosophic genius,

No braver than a battle hero or any blackened firefighter,

No more courageous tha a woman bearing children

In a chaotic, irrational world.

We need more statues that honor our humanity
And few that cower to our blood thirsty gods.

Lisa Jain Thompson
November 2007

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Many Europeans, as well as leftists in America, have rejected the traditional Christian God and replaced it with a post-Christian goddess of Mother Nature and a modified Christian eschatology. It isn’t a coherent belief system. It might or might not incorporate New Age thinking. But deep down, there’s a view that humans shouldn’t be tampering with the natural world.

Lee M. Silver
molecular biologist

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brief political informational advert

Starting with Washington, George to George

I have seen the Israeli's blow Russian tanks,
Fly by wire from miles away,
Night scoped enemy soldiers one by one,
As their body heat betrays them,
I know what a body looks like
When their blood splatters my face;
And I have cried as they were wheeled past me
In a fallen hero's parade,
and watched the faces of spouse and family,
Knowing nothing will be the same.

I've heard the angry picket demonstrators
Chanting everything but war,
Backing candidates who had no chance
Then blaming someone else,
I've suffered presidential incompetence,
Duly waited for the next election,
To find one is much like the next one,
Only the nouns are slightly different:
Those we need are unelectable
And won't apply for the job.

Lisa Jain Thompson
November 2007

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Carnivores, omnivores, herbivores ... and now locavores. "Locavore" has been chosen by the New Oxford American Dictionary as its word of the year for 2007.

In case you're wondering, locavores are people who maintain a small carbon footprint by eating locally-produced food.

Other contenders for the dictionary's 2007 title included "upcycling" — the transformation of waste materials into something more useful or valuable — and the verb "to tase" (stun with a Taser).

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the way it was, so to to speak

Once More Falling Sweetly

I was like that myself

When I was a girl,

Cute, eager to please,

With soft full lips

That promised everything.

Older now, I am better at pleasing,

But less likely to do so

Unless I am asked sweetly

And the, only after

We've come to an understanding

About what we may expect

Both before and after.

Lisa Jain Thompson
November 2007

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one last kiss before I go

Space, So Clean, So Tidy

Green aloe, safely inside,

As November plays with freezing,

Outside the leaves already are down

Or surely quickly dying,

The trees grow half naked,

The varmints more excited,

The dog has a clear view of his targets,
Chasing them down the common grounds.

The meter stutters erotically,
Erratically, and stumbling,

Words discconect, struggle to realign
Meaning falls like autmn.

Poet looks back outside,

Shrugs,

Ends the

Lisa Jain Thompson

November 2007

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Now the trumpet summons us again — not as a call to bear arms, though arms we need — not as a call to battle, though embattled we are — but a call to bear the burden of a long twilight struggle, year in and year out, "rejoicing in hope, patient in tribulation" — a struggle against the common enemies of man: tyranny, poverty, disease and war itself.

-- JFK
Innaugral Address
January 20, 1961

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PEACE

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Copyright © Lisa Jain Thompson 1995-2007. Further distribution of this newsletter in its entirety is authorized. Email your letters and postcards or visit her contact page at the Starpoet website.

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